


America's Sweetheart

by fourlegsgood



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: And two shots of Horror, Angst, Big sister Natasha, Drama, F/M, Nothing happens until OC is of age, Overpowered OFC, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Sweet Steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:28:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23590843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourlegsgood/pseuds/fourlegsgood
Summary: “What’s your name?” He asked, his hand now less than three feet away.“It doesn’t matter,” she muttered, the wind now nothing more than a cool breeze.Steve nodded, “it does. Do you have a name?”“001834,” she responded, biting back a growl. The wind began to rise once more, a fallen severed hand shaking on the floor between them.“No, that’s not your name. That’s an alias they gave you. It doesn’t define you.” Steve knelt down finally, allowing her to hover more than a head higher than him. Giving her the power. “What’s your real name?”Everything stopped all of a sudden. The wind. The shaking pieces of the dead.Everything except the second person in his head.“Eleanor,” the voice whispered, speaking directly into him.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/OC, Steve Rogers/Original Character(s), Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), captain america/OC
Kudos: 14





	America's Sweetheart

Steve never thought they’d be doing this. He’d been under the impression (albeit a naïve one) that the entire planet was mourning the loss of half the population. That people would be put off of committing heinous acts at least for a while. 

He hadn’t come to terms with what had happened himself. He was still trying to comprehend what exactly it was that Thanos had managed to do. Who exactly he had managed to deprive him of, to wipe off of the planet. Steve’s friends and family. 

How many more people had to die? How many more people did he have to lose? 

“Cap?” Natasha said, speaking through the ear piece in his left ear. 

Steve squeezed his fist. Now was not the time, nor the place. “Can you repeat that?” 

“I said,” she paused, and Steve knew it was because she was reading from a screen. “There’s a lot of action occurring in the fifth basement level, to your left.” Steve could feel vibrations. He wasn’t sure what was causing it, but he knew something was happening if he could feel it from five floors up. 

“Got it, I’m on it.” 

“Be careful, Steve. We don’t know what’s down there.” 

Steve gritted his teeth, unable to keep the venom from his voice. “Yes we do. Monsters.” 

“Steve-“ 

“I’m muting comm. I’ll check back in when I’ve acquired the… Target,” he hated the term. The “target” in question was nothing more than a child. They didn’t know much more information than that, just that it was a young person that had substantial superhuman abilities. The government agency that kidnapped the kid was keeping all of their files top secret to where not even Tony Stark had been able to crack them. The information they had was from a bug Tony had sent in, but it had been destroyed by an electro magnetic pulse. A strong one, if Tony could be believed. Steve believed him. 

They lose fifty percent of life in the universe and the government is trying to take even more of it. It didn’t make sense to him. He had put so much faith into his government before he went in the ice, would have died for it, and now it was like there wasn’t a less trustworthy group in the world. 

Two floors away and his stomach dropped. It wasn’t what he heard, or even what he felt. At least, not physically. It was almost like something had entered his mind, as if he had two consciousness' living in there with him all of a sudden. It was quiet, like someone standing behind you in a dark room, but it was there and Steve felt it. 

“ _Who are you?”_ It was a soft voice, almost calming, and it spoke directly into his ear. 

Steve searched in the elevator, but saw no one. He quickly adjusted the comm volume but heard nothing and decided to leave it on just in case. “Hello?” 

“ _I said_ ,” the voice grew louder as the elevator came to a stop in the fifth basement level. “ _Who are you?”_ The voice was inside his head. 

He decided to not respond this time, unaware of who was residing in his mind. Eyes sought out every image as the elevator doors slowly slid open to reveal a smoky hall, the legs of a body lying half way through a door way. He needed to hurry. He needed to save the kid and get the hell out of there. 

“ _I don’t_ need _saving.”_ Scared. She sounded scared. 

Steve ran through the hall, stepping over bodies and chasing the sound of screams. Something horrible had happened here. The metallic scent of blood coursed through the air and left an acrid taste on his tongue. This was a solo mission due to the lack of man power, but also due to the fact that it wasn’t supposed to be dangerous. As far as they knew, this was a holding cell area with 26 workers in total and 1 prisoner- no, 1 child. He had to keep reminding himself of that horrible fact. 

Originally, they had thought the large amount of workers were due to them doing jobs in the same building, but Steve was beginning to wonder if perhaps they had been there to guard the child. To keep someone from getting in. 

Steve was about five feet from a room before a body flew out, slamming into the wall before him and cracking beneath the blow, heart immediately stopping. The man slid to the floor, blood pouring from his open mouth. 

“Get out!” The soft voice screamed, now enraged. “Leave!” 

Steve chanced looking around the corner, only to see the most awe-inspiring and equally blood chilling image he had ever seen in his existence as an Avenger. 

It was a girl, he couldn’t tell how old. She was tiny, clearly malnourished. She could have been fourteen or twenty, her waif-like figure not revealing her true age. Despite this, she was not brittle. Steve could tell in the way she hovered above the ground, hair swaying around her like she was surrounded by a storm. She had her own orbit, pieces of bodies floating around her with the debris of what appeared to originally have been a cafeteria. There were no able-bodied men in sight, although a few whimpers could be heard around the high-speed winds. 

The girl held something in her hand, and upon closer inspection, Steve saw it was a syringe. It was still full, and that along with the hospital gown she wore told him more than he wanted to know. 

Needle bruises marred her skin, turning the alabaster color deep purple. Splashes of red coated the purple, making her look like some horrific art work of revenge. This wasn’t even remotely close to his first time seeing dead bodies, but something about the scene made him sick to his stomach. 

“I told you, I don’t need your saving, Soldier.” 

Steve let his shoulders lower, nodding to the girl as he held one hand out. “I can only imagine what they did to you here, but-“ 

“You can’t!” She screamed, the wind picking up and Steve barely managed to dodge a chair that came flying past. “You can’t even begin to imagine what they did to me. What they whispered to me, how they grabbed at me, what they put into me. Your imagination can’t even begin to picture the pain I’ve felt. You have no god damn clue.” There were tears at the corner of her eyes, and suddenly Steve wasn’t scared. Call it heroism, call it idiocy, but he just wanted to help her. “I said get away from me!” 

“Let me help you,” he offered instead, placing his shield on his back. “We have a place. For people like you. Like me. We can help.” 

“ _No one_ can help me. Can’t you see that?” Her voice cracked, and Steve noticed for the first time that her hair was a light brown, like a newer Heart Pine. Her eyes were lighter in color, almost gold. “Why-why are you getting closer?” She was faltering, unsure of herself, but even more unsure of the man before her that was getting closer despite her obvious instability. 

“What’s your name?” He asked, his hand now less than three feet away. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she muttered, the wind now nothing more than a cool breeze. 

Steve nodded, “it does. Do you have a name?” 

“001834,” she responded, biting back a growl. The wind began to rise once more, a fallen severed hand shaking on the floor between them. 

“No, that’s not your name. That’s an alias they gave you. It doesn’t define you.” Steve knelt down finally, allowing her to hover more than a head higher than him. Giving her the power. “What’s your real name?” 

Everything stopped all of a sudden. 

The wind. 

The shaking pieces of the dead. 

Everything except the second person in his head. 

“ _Eleanor,”_ the voice whispered, speaking directly into him. 

Steve smiled up at her, not bothering to look down as her feet touched the ground once more. “That’s a beautiful name.” He took in her frame, how tiny she truly was. She was barely five foot, give or take an inch, and no doubt less than 90lbs soaking wet. Her poor ribs clung to the blood soaked material on her body. “Will you let me help you, Eleanor?” 

“Why?” She asked, this time with her true voice. The shaking, under used one. That was the one he wanted to hear. 

“Because I was sent here to help you.” She took a step back at his words. “But then I saw you, and now I want to. Really,” he made sure they held eye contact. “I need to. I think you have amazing power, but I want you to be able to use it how you want it, when you want it. I want it to be up to you.” 

Eleanor stared at him then. An all-knowing stare, and Steve felt her poke around in his head. He didn’t like it, but he knew she needed to see the truth. He wouldn’t keep it from her. 

After a few moments, she gave in. Her body was overtaken by exhaustion, stumbling until she began to take a nosedive. Steve caught her before she even got close, swooping her gently into his arms. 

“I’m going to take care of you, okay kid?” He mumbled into her hair, pulling her into his arms as he stood. “I’m going to keep you safe.” 

Eleanor didn’t respond, just kept her hands hung over his shoulder as they left, her eyes watching the death she left behind, her heart not feeling quite as full at the sight as she originally thought it would. 


End file.
